


Mommy’s Naughty Boy

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Forced Infantilism, Gen, Hand smothering, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Rescue, Scared Dean Winchester, tied up Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean is snatched by a couple who want a baby boy, and he’ll fit in just nicely.Except Dean is a very naughty boy and naughty boys have to get punished.All Dean can hope is that Sam and Cas get to him in time.





	Mommy’s Naughty Boy

It didn’t matter that the food tasted like puréed dog crap; it could have been the best pie in the world, and Dean would still have reacted the same.

He spat it in her face, and pulled as hard as he could at the belts holding him in place.

Abigail - _mommy_ \- got that look about her, and Dean steeled himself as she stood up.

“You’re a naughty boy, Peter. Mommy can’t love you if you’re a naughty boy.”

“You’re a psycho,” Deat spat back at her. “Get the fuck away from me.”

When she hit him, it was hard enough to snap his head around, and his cheek was immediately achy and hot. 

He could only thank Chuck he wasn’t really a kid, because holy shit he’d be dead by now.

It’d been maybe three days since he woke up in this nightmare, either drugged or restrained, or both, and told in not so many words that he was now the baby boy of Abigail and Leonard, and they’d take good care of him, raise him well, and Dean had never been so scared in his entire life.

The two of them, they’d thought this out well, planned it in every detail, from the high chair he was sitting in just then, capable of holding him in place until he’d eaten (which he never did, even though he was hungry enough now to feel sick with it), to the romper suit with Velcro straps to make sure he didn’t just try to up and run, to the man sized cot with a lockable lid so he stayed put during the night.

Even as he resisted, fought them in every way he could, Dean kept praying to Cas, telling him everything he remembered or had found out, their names, the little details they let slip, because he was just a _baby_, right? And because they didn’t know everything he learned he was feeding right back to the angel who, with Dean’s brother, was only a short distance away.

Hopefully really short.

See, Leonard, despite being a kidnapping crazy son of a bitch, wasn’t too bad.

He’d greet Dean warmly when he came home - _how you doing, champ_ \- and he had more patience with him than Abigail.

When Dean wouldn’t eat, he kept his calm, and told his wife it was probably just a phase. If they made it a big deal, it’d be a big deal, whereas if they just left Dean alone to eat or not…

Dean had to admit that was a strategy that might eventually work (if he hadn’t been bust out of there by _eventually_), because he was feeling faint already but at least when he wouldn’t co-operate with Leonard…

Leonard just set the food aside and went to do something else.

Abigail…. She took it kind of personal.

The first time he’d crossed her, she’d dumped him in his ‘cot’, locked it up, and pulled a black out cover over the whole damn thing.

It had made the inside stuffy and hot, not helped by the romper Dean was strapped into that left him pretty much helpless on his back for the night.

So, when Leonard wasn’t there, Dean knew he had to be extra careful. All the same he didn’t have it in him to just pretend he was this woman’s baby.

He was a grown fucking man, and she and her husband had kidnapped him for some fucking perverse take on a family.

Dean had his own family and he knew they’d be looking for him. 

When Abigail pulled another tub of pre made baby food from the fridge, and another spoon and set it down on the tray of his high chair, Dean prayed frantically for them to hurry up.

Because there it was: that nasty glint in the woman’s eye that told him he was in for it.

Abigail grabbed a towel, and wiped her face clean, before rubbing it roughly across Dean’s mouth.

Then she opened the tub and spooned out a dollop of the food.

It looked like turned cheese, and Dean didn’t care if it was in fact the best infant food in existence.

He wasn’t an infant, and he wasn’t eating it.

But Abigail had other ideas. She held the spoon to his mouth, and Dean stubbornly pressed his lips together.

He should have expected what she did next, but he didn’t, and he started when her fingers quickly pressed his nose shut.

He growled at her, tried to pull away, but she held fast, and then it was open his mouth or smother so he did, and she rammed that spoonful of food in so hard she nearly stabbed his tongue with the spoon.

Before Dean could spit it out, she pinched his nose again, and this time followed up with a hand covering his mouth.

Dean gagged and screamed at her, the sound muffled; his eyes were burning as he tried to breathe, and couldn’t, so he swallowed and then waited for her to let go.

She didn’t.

The bitch, she’d seen him swallow, no way she could have missed it, but she was smirking at him now.

“You’re a bad boy, Peter. Mommy has to punish you, now.”

He screamed at her from beneath her hand, tried to wrench away, but he couldn’t get her to let go, and she was actually going to kill him this time.

And then someone was pulling her away from him.

Sam.

Dean choked and wheezed, and Cas yanked the frame from the high chair, and then the belts that held him in place.

He had to ease Dean to the floor, roll him onto his side so he could breathe more easily, and then he felt the urgent rush of Grace as Cas healed him.

And then the angel was pulling him into his arms.

Dean was still too shocked to deny himself that comfort. He was in an adult romper suit with restraints to render him helpless, backed up by drugs and the threat of physical harm.

Abigail screamed and tried to claw her way to Dean.

“Don’t you take my boy! That’s my son!”

Cas was on his feet as she got too close to Dean, strong with madness and almost wrenching herself out of Sam’s grip.

He put two fingers to her forehead and she folded like a dropped raggy doll.

They ignored her, then, turning all their focus on Dean, getting him slowly to his feet, and then to the car, and it was all a daze from then on in until he felt himself being settled in his own bed in his own home with his own family.

Cas and Sam sat next to him that whole night, there each time he woke up to reassure him he was home and safe.


End file.
